Weekly Appointment
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Angelina has an appointment she cannot miss. Canon Character Death.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Prompt List at the Bottom**

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 **Weekly Appointment**

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Soft white material flowed around her as she walked, the summer weather calling for a loose dress. The graveyard was filled with flowers, the soft buzz of bees, and butterflies flapped past, none caring that this was a place of sadness and loss.

Angelina walked the familiar path, a path she walked once a week, sun, wind, snow or storm. She hadn't missed an appointment once. She nodded to people she saw regularly, smiling fully at an old lady who kept the same schedule as Angelina herself.

Turning onto the back row, she walked to the corner gravestone and, after laying out a picnic blanket, sat down in front of it, plonking the bag she carried beside her.

"Hey Freddie," she said brightly, her eyes tracing over the delicate carvings on the stone. "How are you up there? Annoying people no doubt? I brought you some more butterbeer, and a few other things this week," she added, pulling the single bottle from the bag and placing it next to the gravestone.

"I fetched some sunflowers, brighten the place up a bit," she murmured, arranging the flowers haphazardly.

"I saw this the other day and it reminded me of you," she said, placing a fake wand on the other side to the butterbeer. "I saw George too. He looks like he's doing a little better, but I'm sure you already know that. I can't imagine that you're not watching him."

Pulling the last thing from the bag, she smiled, even as tears filled her eyes.

"I found this yesterday. I didn't even know I had it," she whispered. "I don't know if you can see it where you are, so I thought I'd try and remind you of when it was taken. I'll do my best not to cry again."

She chuckled, tracing a finger over the photograph in her lap. It was the first time Fred had made her cry; the first and last time he'd made her cry while he was alive. She'd shed many a tear over him since he died.

"I think it must have been George who took the picture, he was the only other person there, I think. We're outside Fortescue's, and in my hands is a white envelope, from the Harpies. Do you remember? You nagged and harassed the manager for almost a month to get me a try out?"

She shook her head, placing the photo carefully so that it was leaning against the grave. Checking around herself to make sure there were no muggles around, she cast a light sticking charm and an impervious to protect it from the elements.

"Nobody ever believed in me quite as much as you did. I miss that. I miss you. Even though it's been over a year, I still forget sometimes. Forget that you're not here anymore. I wake up, and for a moment, it's all fine. Life is the way it should be, and I'm completely happy. Then I turn over and the cold sheets on your side of the bed remind me that it's not all fine."

Stretching her long legs out in front of her, she lay down, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hands. She'd forgot to grab her sunglasses on her way out of the door.

"I'm still trying though. I've got some semblance of a life back, even if it'll never feel wholly complete. I can still feel you, almost like I've got an invisible ghost following me around. If that is you, then don't stop. I don't ever want to feel like you've completely gone."

She lay there for over an hour, occasionally making a comment on her week, but mostly she lay in silence, feeling closer to the man she loved than she did at any other time of the week.

She jumped when her watch beeped twice before chuckling at herself. She'd gotten so jumpy since the end of the war. Fred would have had a field day of teasing her about it.

"Time for me to go, baby. I'll be back next week. Maybe I'll see if George wants to come with me?"

She stood up, folding the blanket and putting it back into the bag. "Hopefully the nice weather will hold out and I'll be able to fetch a picnic with me to go with the blanket next week. I love you, Freddie."

Resting her hand atop of the stone for a moment, Angelina glanced at the sky and smiled before she turned away. George had invited her to Sunday lunch at the Burrow and she didn't want to be late.

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 **Written for;**

 **Love In Motion** \- FredAngelina

 **Writing Club, Showtime** -

 **Writing Club, Themed List** \- Ghost

 **Around the World** \- Palau - Photograph

 **Count Your Buttons** \- "I'll do my best not to cry again." / Semblance

 **Friends Competition** \- S3Ep3

 **Ways To Say 'I love you'** \- 2. "It reminded me of you."

 **Are You Crazy** \- 179. Butterbeer

 **Word Count - 769**


End file.
